Telling the Truth

I haven't blogged in a long while about what's been going on (or not going on) in my life.  I have a year and a half of things that I haven't written a single post about.  To be quite honest, I'm not really sure that I want to write about them-- any of them. It's not that I don't want y'all to know what's been going on, or to share any of my adventures and struggles with you.  It's more that I don't want to think about them myself.  It's easier to just ignore them, and let the past be the past, and figure out a way to just start over here and now. 

Except it's not really easier to do that, is it?  I mean, you can't just leave your behind in the past, as Pumba says.  It doesn't work.   It might make things seem easier in the short run, but in the long run?  You have to deal with things, or you don't ever get better.  I've been very consciously not thinking about even the good things in the past eighteen months, because even those are too sad for me to look at closely.  I haven't emailed friends, because I don't want to think about how much I miss them.  Because I don't want to talk about how I feel like there is nothing good going on in my life right now.  Because I don't want to admit how bad things really are, inside. 

All that ignore is not making things better.  I'm not sure that's it making them worse, but it sure isn't helping anything. 

I was talking with my one friend with whom I spend time on a more-or-less regular basis, and she's a bit of a busy-body by her own admission, always trying to fix things for people.  She's had a pretty rough year herself, and we were commiserating over things.  I had no words of wisdom for her, but just a listening ear and sympathy for the struggle.  For me, she had a suggestion:  write. About the feeling of dislocation I'm suffering, about the struggle with being where I don't want to be (in more ways than one), about feeling lost and empty and unproductive and all the things I'm struggling.  But to write about the past year and a half, good and bad.  To tell my story, because to do that I have to face it and (perhaps) work though it.  At least deal with the fact that it exists. 

I'm not at all happy about this suggestion.  Obviously.  Because I don't want to talk about it.  Okay? 

I know, I know.  I hear you.  It's not okay.  I get it.  I'll try. 

For a start, I'm writing this post.  Laying it out there, why I haven't kept in touch or blogged.  It's hard for me to admit that I'm struggling, because I don't want to burden people with my troubles.  I (stupidly) feel like I should be able to deal with my own problems.  I say stupidly because I know darn well that we are called to carry each other's burdens, and that is part of what friends are for.  I expect others to let me help with their burdens (as well as their joys, to be fair), but I'm quite often not willing to return that favour.  I had a friend recently who very pointedly said to me, 'I hope you wouldn't rob your friends of a chance to bless you,' in response to a discussion of homeless and hungry Americans (I said I would be both of those if it weren't for staying with family).  Oh, if only it were so easy for me to see it that way! 

I struggle with that, though.  Am I the only one?  Probably not.  It seems like a very American mindset, the 'pull yourself up by your bootstraps' and be all self-sufficient.  It is not, however, a very Christian one.  I'm working on that.  I'm not even sure I want to post this, because it's a bit too raw and honest.  I don't want people to think less of me. 

Seriously?  Yes.  Even though I know full well that y'all, who are my friends, will not think less of me for being honest, or for struggling.  Still I worry.  And keep it inside, to myself.  I know that doesn't make sense;  I know that I am holding myself to an impossible double-standard, and am acting in ways that I would not want my friends to act if they were having hard times of any sort.  So please forgive me, friends, for behaving in ways that actually deny your friendship.  I don't mean to do that;  I am thankful for you, I really am.  It's myself I am fighting with, and I don't know if I'll win this one.  But I will try-- to write, as my friend suggests;  to be more honest about, well, everything; to give you the opportunity to be my friends in the same ways that I want to be your friends-- and to let you, if you're willing, to help me carry my burdens, and give you the opportunity to bless me.  Because, honestly, I know that works both ways.  I just forget sometimes. 

My Friendship Fears

I almost skipped church on Sunday.  I really wanted to.  I was being lazy, and wanted to stay in bed instead of get up, get ready and get going.  I tried to convince myself that it would be fine to skip, to worship at the Church of the Holy Comforter (except that I have quilts, instead) because, after all, I'd been to church pretty regularly lately.  Everyone deserves a day off, I reasoned. 

I was not convinced. 

Eventually, I did get up, get ready and get going, and got there ten minutes late (which, to be fair, is pretty good for me).  I wasn't terribly happy about it, but I was there, for whatever reason.  I suppose it was reason enough that I couldn't talk myself into any truly good excuses for staying home that day.  I like the church I've been attending when I'm in town, for its mission and its heart for Jesus and people (if not so much for its contemporary service.  It's well done, mind, but I'm truly a traditionalist at heart.), and I know a few people from my growing-up years who attend there--as well as a few new friends from this return time. 

So there I sat, mind not really on the sermon (about eternal life, and actually a pretty good one).  I was just letting my eyes wander around, to see who I could see.  I hadn't spotted 'my' people on my way in late, so I was sitting on my own, which I don't mind at all.  I always hope it'll mean I meet new people, but rarely do people actually speak to me.  Not that they're rude-- but never mind;  that's another story for another time.  As my eyes wandered over the backs of heads, I noticed someone in the front row.  Sitting next to a couple my parents' age.  With whom I went to church growing up, and was involved in Chrysalis and Emmaus with them and their youngest daughter.

I thought it must be a coincidence.  And then she turned her head, and I perked right up as I recognised her for certain-- it was their youngest daughter, a friend of mine who I had not seen in easily a decade!  Actually, it's probably been longer than that-- more like fifteen years.  I was so excited, and couldn't wait for the service to be over so I could go up and speak with her.  I had visited with her parents several times at church, which is always a joy, and had asked after her.  But I hadn't expected to actually get a chance to catch up with her! 

Then, as I sat there, trying to listen to the sermon and waiting for the end of the service, I started to worry.  Maybe I shouldn't go up to her.  Maybe I should just leave, and if I ran into her and her family, then fine.  Maybe I shouldn't seek her out.  Because what if she doesn't remember me?  What if she hasn't thought about me at all in those intervening years?  What if she's not interested in catching up?  What if I like her more than she likes me, and she doesn't care if she sees me or not?  What if? 

See, I do this to myself a lot.  I always worry, when I haven't been in touch with someone or haven't seen them for a long time, even if we've kept in touch.  I always worry that it's going to be horribly awkward, that they haven't missed me as much as I've missed them (or at all), and that they might not even really remember me or care that much to be reacquainted, sometimes despite what they might say beforehand.  Friends who have moved away say, 'Come visit!' And I say, 'I'll try,' but what I mean is, 'I think you're just being polite and don't really want to see me, so I'll politely agree to try and visit but not work very hard at it, just in case.'  Because I would hate to actually show up and have things go badly.  I'd rather not go up to my friend for a catch-up after all this time in case it's not what I'd like it to be and instead it is what I'm afraid it will be. 

In all these cases, I struggle with the fear of rejection, or at least with the fear of being a non-entity.  Even worse than a blatant rejection, I think, would be polite disinterest or a blank nothingness.  Would I rather stay alone and keep my memories of the friendship past than risk finding out there's absolute emptiness in the relationship now?  Yes, often I think I would. 

And yet that never, ever happens.  I have never yet had a situation where the person I wanted to see wasn't also delighted to see me.  Sometimes it's a little awkward, if we haven't seen each other for a very long time, as we relearn how to be in the same physical space-- but more often than not, it's just like no time has passed at all.  And still I'm always surprised that they are as obviously overjoyed to be with me again as I am to be with them.  Always. 

Why is that?  Why do I seem to always forget the evidence of past experiences, of friendships in general, and instead revert to the fear that I am nothing, nobody, not worth remembering or missing?  Am I the only one who struggles with this?  Or are we all struggling to remember that we are worthy, that people love us, that those we miss are missing us, as well?  I think for me, it comes down to what my head knows but my heart forgets.  It happens to me not just with human relationships, but in my relationship with God, as well.  I know with my brain that God loves me, despite my sins and flaws.  I know that it is God's grace that enables me to live and love better than I would otherwise be capable, that offers me forgiveness and a chance to try again when I fail, and that encircles and infuses my relationships with that same love and grace.  I know these things with my mind--but I all too often forget them with my heart.  Which means that, instead of trusting God and the grace, love and mercy he wants to shower me with daily, I instead turn to fear and worry--especially in my other relationships.  And in turn, I lose sight of the fact that friendships by definition require more than just one person--more than just myself.  Simply because I have called people friends, the chances are far better than I give them credit for that they feel about me the same way I feel about them. 

I just tend to forget that part.  Despite the fact that I am always reminded of its truth.  Like this past Sunday, when I finally gathered my things after church and walked up to catch my friend.  I hesitated, then tapped her on the shoulder.  She turned around, saw me, and we both just beamed.  Big hugs were shared, introductions made to her wee man, and quick catch ups on life were exchanged.  It was so great, for both of us, I think.  Life moves on, people come and go--but real friendships do stand the test of time.  I know that, and Sunday reminded me, yet again, to believe it. 

I can't assure you that I won't still struggle with this.  I can't promise that I'll not be nervous about seeing you again after a long absence.  I can't even be sure that I'll be any better about keeping in touch--especially about getting back in touch, when I've been out of touch for so long.  But I can assure you that it's because I care about you and think so highly of your friendship that I am hesitant, as stupid as that undoubtedly is.  I can promise that I'll try, and that I will make a concerted effort to get back in touch (through email, phone calls or letters).  Because I do miss you, my friends.  I'm just fighting the fear.  

Thomas

For many of you, this is old news.  You heard it back when it happened, either on ViewFinder (this is the link to this story on my photo-a-day blog) or Facebook.  For the rest of you, and for posterity's sake here on True Aim, I'll say it again.

We lost Thomas, our older sweet kitty, pretty suddenly.  He's had some health issues over the past year or so, but didn't seem to be doing too badly, considering he was sixteen-- and had a very annoying younger brother.  Kenny and I had taken him to the vet on a Friday night, they kept him overnight, and called Kenny back on Saturday to put him down.  We miss him a lot around here.  Still.

Especially Dillon.  He whines all the time now, and wants to be right where you are-- even more than before.  It's sweet when he wants to be all cuddly... but I can't do anything without him right there.  In the kitchen.  In the bathroom (I shoo him out first).  In my bedroom (when he's fast enough to race in before I can catch him).  In the lounge.

The problem is, when I was trying desperately to finish my thesis, he kept wanting to be on my lap.  Where my laptop was.  That doesn't work so well.  Now it's times like now, or when I'm reading, that he's really in the way.  Once he settles down beside me, I don't mind so much... but until he settles, he's a pain.  Quite literally.  He has claws, and dang, they hurt!

Kenny keeps threatening to get another cat to keep Dill company, but I'm not sure I can handle another.  I can barely handle this one! 

What Not To Wear?

Right, friends.  I need some help.  What should I wear to my viva?  My sister has told me I dress like a grandma.  Luckily I've got friends with great fashion sense who give me clothes they don't wear often.  So I have choices... I just don't know what goes together, or what goes with me.  So I need your help. 

Here are the options (or mix and match between what I put together, because I can't be bothered to take photos of every single permutation):

 These trousers are a little itchy.  They're linen, but they feel like wool.  And they show off what my grandma always refers to as my 'child-bearing hips'.  She means it as a positive thing.  I think.  I would not wear them with a shirt tucked in like this, though... that was just to show the trousers. 

Those are all the same trousers... just different shirts.  Obviously. 

Please ignore the fact that I'm wearing a green tank that doesn't really go with everything.  I do have different colours, and will match them appropriately to whatever I end up wearing.  I just couldn't be bothered with changing all my undergarments everytime. 

Modelling is obviously not my calling in life. 

I'm not really as mad as I look... the dang cat kept getting in the way and knocking over my camera.  It's not easy to do this all with a self-timer. 

This is a skirt.  A long, slinky, floor-length skirt. 

Yes.  I need to iron half these things.  I just couldn't be bothered doing it first, and besides, the iron and board are in Kenny's room.  So pretend I'm nicely pressed, please.

Same linen trousers as above, but different brown shirt here and below. 

These are fuzzy velvety trousers.  I like them.  They feel nice. 

That skirt is purple.  Like, a very nice plum.  It's lovely, although it doesn't come out so well in these amateurish photos.  That photographer isn't getting a pence for them. 

Clothes sizes crack me up.  This skirt is a 12, and it fits better than some of the 14s and 16s above.  And that's not because they are too big, either.  Weird.

I also have an orange shirt that matches this:

For this and the next dress, I do have sweaters to wear over them.  It's not quite that warm here anymore. 

This is probably my favourite dress I've owned in years.  I love it.  Love it, love it, love it.  But that doesn't mean it's right for this.  I just have to make it an option.  =)

Ignore the jeans;  it's the top I'm adding into the mix.  Cos I like it. 

So.  What's the call?  What should I wear?  And what should I never, ever put on again and find a new home for immediately?  If there is something like that, I need to know it.  I can take it.  Just be nice.  =)

Dear Faithful Readers

Hello?  Anyone out there?  *crickets*

C'mon, y'all.  I can see the three of you.  Hello!  Echo...echo...echo...echo. 

Ha.  I'm such a joker. 

No really. 

Faithful friends and readers, thank you for not giving up on my entirely.  If you are reading this now, you've at least not deleted me from your blogroll.  Thank you for that.  I have had loads of things I've done that I wanted to write about, and loads more things that I *should* write about... but I just haven't had the energy or presence of mind to actually sit down and write.  Maybe it's just a by-product of being done with the thesis-- I have writer's block now.  Better now than then, anyway! 

Anyway.  I just sent out this letter to all my email contacts, so if you're already read it, please feel free to skim or ignore or whatever.  But I just wanted to update everyone on what's going on and what's going off and what's coming up and all that jazz.  So here's the short version of my life right now:

Hi y'all,

I realise that I haven't written an update in years now.  I also realise that I've been very, very remiss in emailing pretty much at all.  For that, I do apologise.  It's not that I don't miss you or think about you or pray for you... it's just that I've been very bad at letting you know that.  Partly I blame writing a PhD thesis.  Partly I blame Facebook (which is where I mostly keep up with people, so if you're on there and want to keep up with me, please find me!).  Partly I blame the time going by faster and faster as I get older so that I hardly notice it's past.  Mostly, though, it's just that I've gotten really bad at taking the time.  I am sorry. 

This note, however, is to let you know that I'm actually finally nearly done with my PhD!  I know, it's been six years.  You can hardly believe it.  Me, neither.  I submitted the monster of 100,000 words (give or take a few) on 2 August, and my viva (defence) is in ten days.  TEN DAYS!!  That's 20 September. Thank goodness it's not the 19th, as that's 'speak like a pirate day'.  I'm betting that would be a little awkward.  ;)  So yup.  A week from Monday at half ten in the morning my time (so the middle of the night for most of y'all), I will meet with two readers-- one from my university and one from another university-- to find out my fate.  I'm nervous, of course.  Who wouldn't be?  But it'll be fine.  I keep telling myself that, anyway.  It'll be fine. 

What happens after that, however, God only knows.  I have hoped to stay in the UK and work for a year or two, and then figure out where I want to go next-- that plan seems to be in some trouble, thanks to the UK bordery agency still not having dealt with my visa extension that I applied for back in April.  Technically now I'm illegal-- but they've had all my documents and application (and my passport, of course....yikes) since then.  I'm not sure if they'll count that against me since it's not my fault or not, so I'm trying to find out whether it will be a total waste of my money to apply for the post-study work visa once the university cuts me loose.  If I haven't heard back from the original visa application by then, that is.  I really want to stay here a while longer... it's home now, after so many years, and I love it.  I have been more myself here than probably any other time or place in my whole life.  I have friends here who are more like family.  I have an unlimited cinema card, and I don't have to have a car.  It fits me, and I'm not ready to leave.  However, I do realise that I might have no choice.  I might get my April visa denied, in which case I won't be able to apply for the other from here.  They might not accept my new application because of the delay in the other, but still would keep the huge application fee.  Financially, it seems safer to just come back to the States... but that's not where my heart is. 

Friends and family, would you please pray with me?  About my viva, that it goes well and I'm not so stressed out that I burst into tears?  Because that isn't unknown.  I know, you're shocked.  I never cry at anything.  =D  And about what happens next, mostly-- not for any specific outcome, but just that I would have a peace about whatever it is that I should do next.  Because right now, I don't have peace about any of my options, for different reasons.  I have no idea what to do next, and I don't feel like I really have 'choices', since so much of what will or won't happen is constrained by things completely out of my control.  I know that God is in control, and that things will work out-- I just don't know how.  And I've been in the dark on this for a loooong time.  I'm really struggling with that now. 

Thank you all so much for your support, love, and prayers over these past few years in Aberdeen.  It has been hard and not always pleasant, but it has also been wonderful and challenging and surprising.  I have learned a lot, about my research, of course, but also about myself.  I can't believe this road is almost over.  I seriously doubted over much of the past two years that this day would ever come.  It felt impossible-- yet here I am.  Thank you for walking it with me, even when you haven't heard from me.  I would love to hear how things are in your world, though, and if there are ways I can be praying for you, please do let me know. 

I'll let you know what happens in ten days.  =D

love,
amie

20(1)0!!

I've had writer's block, knowing this was a milestone post.  200 posts!  That's not too shabby.  Already more posts this year than all of last year.  That's both great and sad, depending on your point of view. 

Since it's a big one, I decided I'd use this opportunity to ask for some help, and do a contest!  The prize will be negotiated with the winner, but it will be something Scottish.  Cos I live in Scotland, of course.  So think about what you want-- cadburys? cheesy t-shirt? digestives? marmalade? tartan scarf? If you win, we'll talk.  =)

Here's what I need.  I need an Inca John.  I need a Flat Stanley.  I need a travel buddy. 

I have a couple of options, and I'd like to put it to a vote.  I also might need a name.  So there will be two parts to this contest-- the first to vote on my travel buddy, which winner will be chosen randomly from all the entrants, and the second one to name him or her.  That one will be merit-based, and my decision will be final.  I hope you can deal with that.  =)

So here are the contestants.  Voting starts immediately, and ends on Saturday at noon EST (which is five pm for me, in case you're wondering).  After the lucky companion is chosen, then I'll post a new contest to name him or her!  Yippee!  I'm so excited! 

Number One: Woody

So Woody already has a name.  He actually talks, too.  No string, you just whack him.  I do love cowboys. 

Number Two: fuzzy bear

Boy or girl? I don't know.  Lots of room to develop personality, I guess. 

Number Three: moose

A gift from Jen and Saum when they were on holiday in Maine a few years ago.  I just think s/he's cute. 

Number Four: Fairtrade Christmas gift boy

Paige got me this wee loon for Christmas because I had been talking about needing a companion.  He's not been with me, or earned a name yet.  This could be the time. 

Number Five: sonic screwdriver

I realise this one could be tricky, but I've liked the idea of a Doctor-themed companion for ages.  Or would I be the Doctor's companion?  Either way.  It's an option. 

I have to have a buddy picked by Saturday so they can accompany me to Glasgow to see Paul McCartney on Sunday.  I mean, what better way to start our travel relationship?! 

Garden Envy

My back garden:

The clothes line poles are just higher than my head, and those reed-things are that high.

I don't even know what these should be used for, but currently they are in such a state that I don't think they are fit for anything.

There were, last year, a lot of nice flowering bushes along that wall.  Someone started tearing them all out, and I can't find a rhyme or reason for how and why they did.  And why they left all the branches and bits in piles around the rest of the garden.  Grrrrr.

The neighbour's back garden, which looks nice and tended and like the wee rooms at the back can actually be used for something.

A random garden at uni-- behind my friend Liz's office building.  I gotta figure out how to get in there.

And I've gotta figure out how to deal with our garden.  Not having the right tools is a big bummer right now.

I'm Sensing a Theme...

Oooh, thanks, Aleithia! I love coffee.  But wait a minute... why do I get the 'boozey' one?  What are you saying?

Yes, it's vodka... but it's Birthday Cake Flavour!!

Oooh, Liz!  Thanks!  I love Lush goodies... but hold on a sec.  Are you trying to tell me something?

Oh, c'mon!  It's only one!

But I didn't HAVE all 30...

That's only six.  I can even remember what flavours they are:  strawberry, bakewell tart, pineapple & mango, parma violet, cola cube, and ice cream.  See?  I'm not THAT big a drunk. 

Oh.  Right.  I think the other six were milky bar, cherry, birthday cake, pear drop, lemon & lime, and... um... rhubarb & custard.  Yeah.  That's them.  And it's not like I was drinking alone...

Y'all were there, too. Thanks for suffering through the flavours of vodka shots on my Cinco de Drinko Birthday!   And for the 'themed' gifts.  =D

Just Because You Feel Hopeless...

My friend Jody posted this article a few days ago, and we had a brief exchange about it.  Then that night, in my devotional time, I read this poem by Virginia French, published 15 November, 1941. 

"Our Father Who Art"

We will return, O Lord, before the snows,
When autumn winds have hissed our candles out.
Weary and cold, and whimpering on Your name,
We will come back across the withered field
Of this adventure.  Surely You will wait
A season, while we play a summer game
Of strength and valor, flaunting willow swords,
Challenging the drowsy dragon-fly
To duel upon the long, sweet meadow-grass.
And when the wanton locust hours end,
When winter's beast-eyes, in the bitter dark,
Circle our meadow, --Father, then prepare
The hearth for us, the chastened, briefly brave,
Stumbling across the world to claim Your love. 

Reading it the same day as that article, about how desperately hopeless these current generations feel about everything, how cynical they are about it all-- it just seemed timely.  I sat there and prayed that, somehow, these generations, all these lonely, wandering, hopeless, 'briefly brave' people will come to see that just because you feel hopeless doesn't mean there is no Hope.  That not seeing an answer doesn't mean there isn't an Answer.  That thinking all is lost doesn't mean that you aren't actually already Found, if you'll just stop hiding. 

And that God would work in me to somehow be a part of this invitation Home, even--perhaps especially-- for those who as yet don't see the need or the possibility of it. 

Not a Laughing Matter

(I wrote this for something else, so please forgive the lack of caps.  I know some of you have heard this before from me, but I can't help it.  It's still an issue, and it's still close to my heart.)

i am not all that political.  i am glad to have the freedom to vote and have an opinion, but i don't get very caught up in it all, either locally, nationally or internationally.

i am, however, very opinionated about how people are treated.  especially when it is completely unfair.

i also know that a lot of people will think that this makes me political.  it doesn't.  i'm not anti-anyone-- i'm pro-everyone.  i just think that all people have the right to live and work and love, and to do so in a manner that is not in constant fear or under constant threat.

what made me so mad today was the stupid young undergrads in a class i'm taking notes for.  it's a class on the history of the middle east and all the conflicts there.  i actually am really glad to be in this class.  i have been to israel and the palestinian territories, twice.  i know people who live and work in various parts of the entire region.  i love the history, the culture, the food, the people-- arabs, jews, christians, muslims, all of them.  it is fascinating to me, and i would love to live there some day.  i also took classes in university from a rabbi-- both bible classes and classes on the holocaust.  i am not ignorant of what has been done to jewish people... but neither am i ignorant of what they have done to others.

today in this class, we were talking about the history of the conflict between israelis and palestinians, going back to the 1930s.  it has been a difficult situation for a long time, and neither side is blameless.  for the second half of the class, we watched the first half of a film called 'paradise now' about two young men from nablus, following their journey in becoming suicide bombers.  i don't know how it's going to end yet.

first off, the film is filmed in nablus.  having spent time in the west bank, and really wanting to go back, it actually made me a little homesick, which is funny because it's never been 'home' yet.  also, having spent time there with friends who have family living there, as well as having spent a summer term at hebrew university of jerusalem, i have experienced both sides-- and now i've studied the history of both sides.  this film, seeing these two young men struggle with very limited options, trying to decide what they can do, how they can make a difference for their family, their people, their land... it was heartbreaking.  at many points, i had tears streaming down my face.

and the kids behind me were giggling.  laughing.  ridiculing.  i was furious.  but i just had to sit there.

i want to be clear:  i do not support or approve of violence on either side, whether state sanctioned (israel) or revolutionary (many arabs).  i. do. not. think. violence. solves. anything. or. is. ever. the. answer.  EVER.

that being said, i do understand why many oppressed people around the globe feel that violence is their only option.  i have seen myself what life is like, and how intolerable it can be, when you are the oppressed and occupied people.  one person's terrorist is another's freedom fighter.  israel itself used the very same tactics to claim their statehood-- and are every bit as violent and oppressive towards their arab neighbours as they suffered under the nazis.

how is that fair?  how is that right?  it's not. and it's no laughing matter.

i know that there are no easy solutions, and that violence begets violence, and everyone has claims, and all that.  but i get angry anyway.

I Am One... Are You?

Caring for Your Introvert - Magazine - The Atlantic

This is seriously the most awesome article I've ever read about myself. I laughed out loud a few times, and nodded my head to nearly every point. Preach it, Jonathan!

I'd love to hear what y'all think, introverts and extroverts alike....

Park... or Car Park?

Union Terrace Gardens is under attack.  If you have lived here, or visited here, then you may well remember the Gardens in the City Centre.  They are a favourite spot on nice days for all kinds of people, and they are beautifully landscaped year-round.  To turn them into a carpark would be worse than just a tragedy.  Please, if you can, even if you don't live here now, read the information and go vote 'no'.  I would appreciate it greatly! 



'A public consultation is now underway on Sir Ian Wood's vision to concrete over Union Terrace Gardens to create a Civic Square and 3 acres of underground real estate.  The cost is £140 million+ of which at least £70 million must come from the public purse. 

This consultation is NOT allowing the public to express their views on anything other than the City Square.

There is an alternative...

Peacock Visual Arts' scheme for a major new cultural facility in the Gardens has full planning permission and 75% of its funding in place.  It allows the Gardens to be retained and regenerated at a fraction of the cost to the environment and the public purse of Sir Ian's scheme. 

The Civic Square involves the felling of around 100 trees (including elms up to 200 years olf) and the loss of an historic park.  It will be impossible to plant mature trees on the Civic Square as there will be nowhere for their roots to grow. 

The Civic Square violates all guidelines on planning and green public spaces.  It would potentially require compulsory purchase orders for Belmont St properties.

It has a £90 million + funding gap and may need to introduce a new local tax to cover its costs.

Peacock's scheme will welcome over 200,000 visitors per year and bring £5 million annually into the local economy.  Peacock is a local charity, their new arts centre would retain the gardens providing disabled access, baby changing and cafe facilities as well as activites for including dance, music, art, education and community activities. 

If you support the Gardens and the Arts Centre please visit the website www.thecitysquareproject.com and say 'No'  to the City Square on the questionnaire, and sign the petition at www.iloveutg.org.' 

(from a brochure handed out on campus by the Iloveutg group)

Countdown to Extinction

Okay, so it's not exactly extinction... it's just regeneration.  Which amounts to the same feeling in my poor heart. 

I can't wait for the next episode-- Christmas!  And yet, I'm not at all ready for it...

Just when I finally stop guarding my heart and fall head over heels... just when I realise that I am totally in love... just when I give in and let myself go...

Oh, Doctor.  Why do you do this to me?  I resisted for so long, Ten.  So, so long.  Because it broke my heart when Nine regenerated after such a short time.  My poor, poor heart.  But you.  You've been chipping away at my resolve with your personality and your good looks and your charisma and your cheekiness and your crazy hair, and you wore me down.  Won me over.  Stole my heart. 

And now?  Where does this leave me now, knowing that you are abandoning me so soon?  How can you do this to me?  It's not fair.  It's not right.  It's the beginning of the end....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-AW_IFHyUc   :for those of you who are reading this through Facebook and can't see the embedded video. 

*sigh*

Visiting Hours

Thank y'all very much for your advice and opinions on my holiday home. Sometimes I just need other people to double check me, to make sure I'm not missing something blindingly obvious, to help me out in making big decisions. And just laying out what I'm thinking for y'all to look over helps me to see it as a big picture rather than just all the little pieces that I feel like I have to worry about. I appreciate all of your opinions, even if you disagree with me, and I appreciate that you care about me and want the best for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I am happy to announce that a decision has been made, and visiting hours will commence on the evening of 22 July (that's a Tuesday) and will continue through the afternoon of 20 September (a Saturday). Yay!

I took a week to agonise over the decision, and my concentration on other things was really suffering. So I finally decided to just take a whole day and get my travel sorted. It ended up taking more than a day, but I did finally get a schedule I could actually make (with enough time in between flights to do all the necessary check-in and re-check-in and so forth, as well as not having to do ridiculous things like spend the night in Heathrow) and a price I could live with. Granted, it's pretty darn expensive... but I just have to live with that, and live a little leaner. It'll be worth it to see my bubbee, and meet my wee duckee, and see everyone else, of course. =D I catch a train from Aberdeen to Glasgow in the early morning, a bus from the station to the airport, fly from Glasgow to Toronto, and then from Toronto to Chicago. Once I get there, I am in Jen and Saum's hands. Hopefully they'll take good care of me. *hint hint, y'all!* Getting home will just be a reverse of that. Whew. Only one change of airports makes me very, very happy. One of these days I'll actually get a direct flight... like if Donald Trump gets his golf course to open here, and they expand the airport to accommodate all the tourists. I can dream, can't I?! ;)

So, I have two months. I don't know what kind of budget I'll have for traveling and stuff, but let me know if you want to see me, and when you are free. And I promise, I will do whatever I can to get to visit everyone! I really, really want to see you all-- it's been too long!

In the meantime, I'll be working really hard to get as much done as I can before I leave. And I'll work while I'm home, as well, to get as much done before I come back here (and get to meet with Brian, maybe). Yay! I'm actually motivated to work now, like I haven't been for ages. I think it's largely due to your help, and the decision being made to go home for a visit. Woo-hoo!

Thanks, y'all.

So Long, and Thanks For All the Fish

If I were doing a *Life. Is. Not. Fair* series, this would be the third time's a charm. But I'm not... officially, anyway.

Well, it's happened again. And I don't like it any more this time than I have the other times. Okay, I like the stuff. I like stuff. But if I only get stuff because my friends are leaving, then I would happily do without the stuff. Sheesh.

Yup. Another couple of friends have gone and abandoned me. And left me with some goodies. Which I guess is a parting gift for me, or something like that.

No, the stuff isn't fish. The only fish I have currently is one frozen breaded cod fillet in the freezer, and one can of tuna in the cupboard... and I bought both of them myself. But that's the quote that keeps going through my head when I think about this phenomenon of being abandoned by friends who leave goodies behind with me. Ten points to the first person who can name the source! =D

Why am I talking so much about the stuff? Well, because I don't want to think about my friends leaving. But I will. In relation to the stuff they left me.

What kind of goodies have I gotten? Well, the first time (when the Cornells left me abruptly) I got about two tons of food, a coffee grinder (oh yeah, Rich knows Kenny and I pretty well), clothes for myself and my bubbee, great toys and books for my bubs as well, and I bought off them a computer and desk and chair and roll-out bed and a bunch of other stuff that I can't remember right now. It was quite a haul... but that still didn't make up for my family leaving me (even though I was happy for them, because they felt it was the right move). =( The next time, it was Barb. Mean old Barb, refusing to transfer to Aberdeen to finish her PhD with me. I just don't understand that. ;) But that time, I got linens and electricals and boots and other stuff that I'm forgetting now as well. Sheesh, I have a terrible memory, apparently! So again, good stuff-- but did it make up for me losing my sistah and sightseeing buddy and personal photographer? No, it didn't. This time, I racked up on the kitchen ware-- Corel and Pyrex cooking dishes (with lids!) and another good bit of food and baking supplies-- from Hannah and Cam. But just because I can use those dishes to make good Southern cooking (which we all enjoyed together) doesn't make me miss them any less.

*Sigh*

In the next few months, more and more and more of my friends are leaving. I guess it's that time... I've been here for going on four years now, and most of the people that I started with (and who I have gotten to know well over the past few years) are either finished already or are finishing up soon. Even my supervisor and his family are leaving for a sabbatical in the States! I'm not looking forward to this mass exodus, even as I am celebrating with my friends their new beginnings-- babies, jobs, new adventures of all kinds in all kinds of places. At least I'll have loads of places to stay when I want to travel. ;)

And I have to admit... as much as I am dying to go home asap to see my new niece and my bubbee, part of me wants to be around here for the farewells to my friends. Who knows when I'll see them again, if ever? (I try not to think of that too much, actually) I have had one set of friends who left while I was home (that would be Tom and Sarah), and I'm not sure if that makes it easier or not. It makes it easier to be in denial about it, anyway. ;) So while I am not by any stretch of the imagination putting off finishing just to stick around here this summer, there would be some good things about still being here for a few months-- like spending as much time as I can with my dearly departing friends (tee hee), and seeing all the summer films for practically free with my Unlimited Card. Sad, but true. =D

I suppose I should look at all these times of leave-taking and new beginnings and so forth as part of being a pilgrim in this world, as new opportunities to make new friends, as times of celebration for having known and been blessed by these relationships for whatever amount of time. It's not easy, though. It's still hard. I don't like it. Even though I am as much to blame for the leaving people to pursue my own calling, I hate the good-byes. And I hate how never-ending it feels, like this cycle will never be broken, and I'll forever be saying hellos (and putting time and energy and emotion and effort into making new friends) as well as good-byes.

I guess I should just stop making friends, stop caring about people, stop being in relationships at all. That's the only way I can think of to keep this from happening, to keep from being heart-broken and devastated at no longer seeing my friends on a regular basis, to not cry regularly over the people I miss.

Yeah, right. Like that's gonna happen! =D

Life. Is. Not. Fair.

I started to call this *It Just Ain't Right, Take Two*, which also would have been appropriate, but this seemed, I don't know, better. Or more right. Something.

Anyway. I know that life is not fair. I know that we can't always get what we want (but sometimes, we do get what we need... which is not the point of this post). I know that missing out on things is character building, and God works in mysterious ways, and blah blah blah. I know all that. But still, it doesn't make things like this easy to swallow.

My sister is lucky. I mean it. This week, she was nearly $1000 lucky. That's pretty dang lucky. Me? I'm not lucky. And it's just not right. I mean, listen to this:

Jen would often forward me recipes from The Pioneer Woman. She's got some good stuff. Check it out, seriously. So one day, I got hooked on her Confessions, especially about her cowboy love story (another case of *life is not fair*, and *where the heck is my cowboy?*, but that's not the story I'm telling right now). I've now been reading her highly addictive blog-- life on the ranch, plus cookery, plus photography, plus whatever else she feels like writing about-- for a few months now. For longer than my sister. She only used some of her recipes, occasionally. It took her a while to start reading the real stuff, as well. So I was there first. Remember that.

Well, two weeks ago, the Pioneer Woman celebrated her two-year blogaversary. She does a load of give-away contests as it is, but she had a boat-load during the blogaversay (my word, not hers). Stuff on each of her four areas. I entered every one. One a day, for a week. But I didn't win. *sigh*

So then last week, she has another give-away on her cooking part. And I enter. Again. Of course. Because I always enter, even though I never win anything. Then I wait. And wait. And wait. For, like, three days. Which is forever, when I'm waiting to see if I've won a fantastic KitchenAide mixer dealie. Forever, I tell ya.

Then, one day, I'm innocently chatting away on Yahoo Messenger with my sister. And I decide to check in on PW and see if there's a winner yet. Lo and behold, there is! I see this:

CONGRATULATIONS, JENNIFER #7880!

I say to myself, self, that's your sister. Even though there are probably hundreds of Jennifers who entered, I just know it. Then I read on, to see Jennifer #7880's entry (the topic was favourite fast food). Not just any Jennifer now-- it's Jennifer B. And I say to myself, self, that's her. It is. I just know it. So I read on, because I can't stop myself, and this Jennifer B. #7880 just loves Mrs. Winner's chicken biscuits, apparently, which she can't get in her neck of the woods. Dang. That settles it. I go back to my IM conversation with my sister, and say

MEAN!! How could you not tell me?

What? She says, all innocent-like. I just tell her to go to PW. Now. Mean.

She's all, like, oh, wow, did I win? Nooooo, I say. Of course not, I say. Sheesh. Mean.

And STILL the excitement from her winning this fantabulous expensive piece of culinary equipment wasn't enough to send her into labour. Oh well. But that's not the point.

The point is, I'm happy for her. Really. I am. But I'm jealous. Not that I could have brought that monster over here, anyway, but... I wanted to win. I never win. At least I get a consolation prize-- her old pistachio green KitchenAide (thanks, Jen!). So that's something. This time. But I am just not the person who wins, who gets things handed to her, who things just work out for. I know that I wouldn't be where I am, doing what I'm doing, or even be the person I am today without God's help. I'm not trying to slight that at all, or say that I've done everything on my own. That's just not true. But I do feel a bit like the labourer who has been working all day long, and then the guys who only worked an hour get the same pay as me. I struggle with that, when I work my bum off and get nothing-- like my financial aid situation, where I applied for everything I could find, and got squat. And other people I know just seem to have money thrown at them. Not literally, of course, but it feels that way. Not just money, but lots of things feel this way to me: jobs, opportunities, even silly contest prizes. Of course I am happy for my friends who get all these great things, and I know that they don't get everything they want, either. But when I see things work out so easily and effortlessly for other people, and never for me, it gets frustrating. I know that God loves me, and that things will work out-- and that the fact that I do have to work for what I feel called to, and what I want, will make me stronger and appreciate it more and all that. That it's not a sign of His favour or disfavour to get or not get these windfalls or whatever you want to call them. I know that. But sometimes, it's hard. It makes me feel... like there must be something wrong with me, with my walk with God, even though I know that is ridiculous. *sigh* I guess we all have things we struggle with, and apparently this is one of mine.

Still, though. Congrats, Jen! I can't wait to use that monster when I get there..... =D

One Reason Why I'm Glad I'm in Scotland...

America is stupid.

I guess I should clarify that: those people in America who vote on American Idol are stupid. I'm a few days behind, but I just watched the results from this week and I am not happy. Not happy at all. The biggest cheater is still there, and should have gone home this week for sure. Her performance was awful. Seriously. But who did America send home? This guy:



Why? Why send him home when he's clearly one of the better ones? He was in my top five, for sure... and I'm pretty confused about what went wrong here. What is America thinking? It doesn't make sense to me, and this show (in my limited experience, since this is only the second season I've followed) always seems to have at least one of these upset votes. It was a shock for lots of people-- judges, fellow contestants, audience-- and not just for me. But man. He's really good. And seems like a genuinely nice fellow. His song choice for this week may have hurt him a tad, and of course this show is as much a popularity contest as a talent one (case in point: Sanjaya last year...). But still. So for what my opinion is worth: America, you got it very, very wrong. And if he puts out an album, I'd buy it.


I realise many of you will think this post is a cop-out, just to get my one a week in. I guess it is partly... but still. Take what you can get. =D

Tag! I'm It...

My friend Jennifer tagged me yesterday. I've never been tagged before... but I always like these kind of things, so here goes!


What are your top 3 favorite foods?
Mexican (anything), chocolate (anything), and pizza, I think... but this is really hard, because I love food in general!

What was the last book you read and would you recommend it?
*The Inimitable Jeeves* by PG Wodehouse is the last book I finished. I would totally recommend it-- it was so funny.

What are your top 3 favorite places?
The beach (preferably a warm one), with my family and friends (especially my bubbee), and Disney World. =D

What was the last lie you told?
Does it count if you didn't know it was a lie at the time? *I'm going home to do some more reading*... but I haven't read any. The last one that I told on purpose? *I'll do the dishes tomorrow.*

What are your favorite 3 sports (to watch or participate in)?
Rugby (national, not club so much), football (European, not American and national, never ever club), and most of the Olympic stuff-- winter and summer.

What was the last movie you watched and would you recommend it?
*10,000 BC*, with Kenny. It was enjoyable.

List 3 things you can see outside of the nearest window.
The drunks smoking outside the bar across the street, traffic on the busy main street, and two trees in the little green space on the corner of the flats across the road.

Where was the last place you went?
To Costa for coffee with Carrie and the boys before hanging out with the boys at the Children's Library while Carrie and Scot went to the cinema, and then for dinner at McD's.

What are your top 3 favorite "good causes" or charities?
Just three? Let's see... Children International (where I sponsor a great kid), Make Poverty History/The One Campaign, and just because it's coming up next week, Idol Gives Back, tee hee.

What was the last thing you did for someone else?
Babysat twice this week at short notice-- once on Monday morning at 9am for Ainsley, and this afternoon for Matthew and Adam.

Name 3 places you have never been that you want to visit.
outer space, New Zealand, and Egypt... although narrowing it down to three is hard!

What was the last thing you threw in the garbage/recycling?
In the garbage, the Charmin wrapper. In the recycling, an empty dishwashing liquid bottle.

Name 3 things on your bedside table.
Alarm clock, books, and Carmex

Describe or name the last piece of art you looked at.
Marischal College, a very fancy baroque granite building here in town.

What are the top 3 things that your job requires you to think about?
How Christian parents should raise kids, why reading is formative and important, and how quickly I can write 100,000 words on those topics.

What was the last musical or theatrical event that you attended?
The BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra Christmas concert, back in December.

What are the first 3 things you would do if you won the lottery?
pay off my debts, pay off my family's debts, and invest as wisely as possible as much as possible

Describe or name the last serious injury or illness you had?
I don't know that it would be called serious, but I was running a fever for close to two weeks this winter... that last thing I'd call *serious* would be all that mess with my heart rate being so low, about a year ago.

What are the top 3 things that you wish you could do?
Get paid for performing (drama, choir, flute, whatever), travel the world, and finish my thesis by May 15.

What was the last thing that someone said to you that you will remember forever?
Honestly, I don't remember. Perhaps my sister telling me she was having another baby?

So, there you go. Now I have to tag five people-- so Masimba, Maggie, Dan & Nancy, Barb, and Abson & Lara, y'all are the lucky five! Mainly because you are pretty much the only five who I know personally or haven't already been tagged. =D

Gentlemen, Your Attention Please!

Do you know what today is? Yes, it's Saturday-- but 8 March is an International Holiday that, for some strange reason, the US doesn't celebrate or recognise anymore. I hope that after reading this, however, YOU will. =)

Today is International Women's Day. Yippee!

What does that mean, you ask? Simply put, today is the day set aside to honour women-- not because of some particular role they fill, but for all that we have done, and all that we are, as women. It began as a political event back in 1909, pushing for women's rights, and since then we still have a lot to commemorate and to push for. Women's rights have come a long way in the West, but it's not that way everywhere. We tend to not want to think about how badly off many women are in many cultures (and sometimes even within oppressive traditions in our own), or about how much women have given to bring us to where we are today. I'm not talking just about the Madame Curies or the Susan B. Anthonys, but about the nameless millions of women who have worked and supported their loved ones and countries through wars and tough times, who have fought for better conditions for themselves and others, who have tirelessly and often thanklessly done what needed to be done, whatever that might be and wherever it might be needed. This isn't just a thing of the past; it is still going on today-- in our homes, our churches, our communities, our businesses, our country and our world. Even if the rest of the year our contributions are underpayed, underappreciate and unnoticed, it seems right to me that one day a year we get a chance to be recognised. This shouldn't be 'just another holiday', even if it has degenerated into a Valentines/Mother's Day kind of celebration. I have heard tell that in some countries (like Russia, for instance), women are given flowers and chocolate-- even by complete strangers! Not that I would complain about that, ha!

Perhaps it's because I'm an academic and a theologian, thus putting me squarely in the middle of a male-dominated world and tradition. Perhaps it's because I'm not a wife or a mother, and am strong and independent and single. Perhaps it's because I am a feminist in many ways. But it seems to me, gentlemen, that too often you fellows take girls like me for granted, or worse, don't notice me at all. Obviously you who are reading this, my friends, aren't like that or you wouldn't be MY friend, ha. But what about the other women in your life? Not just your sweeties or your mums (they already have holidays to recognise them for those roles)-- but your teachers, your colleagues, your friends, your sisters, aunts, and cousins? There are lots of women out there doing amazing things, and not always in the spotlight, so to speak. So I want to encourage you today, and over the next couple of days as you read this, to do something to make them feel special. Take a moment and let those ladies know that you appreciate them. And why you appreciate them.

This Public Service Announcement has been brought to you courtesy of True Aim. =)

One Down....

In a brief AI update, there is now one less *cheater* to worry about-- the Britney-touring pop-group member turned wanna-be rocker: bye-bye, Robbie. Better luck next time.

Whew!

And would someone vote for our young David for me? I can't vote, not being in America and all. But I sure do want him to win. =)